Acceptance
by ani-cat-candy
Summary: John's friend comes for a visit, but there's something odd about her. Can Sherlock figure it out before she completes her work and leaves England? OC/Sherlock
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Nope. Don't own anything. Have fun reading!

* * *

John tapped away at his laptop as Sherlock absently plucked at the strings of his violin. A case had just been solved and the detective was sure to start complaining of boredom at any moment.

"John.. John.. John!"

"What?"

"I'm board."

John lowered his face into his hand as he heaved a sigh, "What am I supposed to do about it? We just finished a bloody case five minutes ago!" He took a breath to continue ranting when his phone went off, alerting him of a text. Great. What now?

Sherlock flopped down onto the sofa with an over exaggerated sigh. "I'm board.. John, I'm board.. John.. John, I'm board.."

"I KNOW YOU'RE BLOODY BOARD!" The doctor snapped at him. It earned him almost a minute of blessed silence before he started up again.

"John.."

"AARG!" John got up wit a shout of annoyance and stormed out the flat.

When he returned from his nice, relaxing, **quiet** walk, he found a young lady wandering slowly down Baker Street. She kept glancing to her phone, then at the surrounding buildings. _Lost._ "Need some assistance, ma-am?"

His eyes widened in recognition when she turned to face him. "Candy!" He pounced on her with a hug, making her laugh. "Hey, John! How have you been?"

"Great and you? Still in service?" He gave her a weary smile as she nodded, her bright smile dimming just slightly before he invited her in.

"I thought you weren't going to get in until morning?" He asked as they ascended the stairs. She was just about to answer when something heavy was heard hitting the wall. The doctor raced up the last few steps in an attempt to save whatever poor object was being abused.

"What are you doing?!" His flatmate threw another book across the room, "Board!"

John rolled his eyes in exasperation, "Sherlock.." Another book flew past him. "Sherlock!"

"WHAT?!" The detective finally turned around and noticed they had company. "Um.. Case?"

John sighed, "No, this is my friend, Candy. She texted me earlier asking if I knew anywhere she could stay.."

"And you offered to let her stay here." Sherlock finished for him as he looked her over. A rather ordinary looking girl. Mid to late teens. Long, straight auburn hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Innocent hazel green eyes set in a round face- not fat, just round. Bordering on oval. Decently full lips. Shorter than John.

No make up, well worn bluejeans and t-shirt. Old trainers with plenty of stains and scuff marks. Either a casual traveler or tomboy. Tomboy was looking more likely by her short, blunt, barely kept nails and callused hands. The way she held herself, feet close together, hands clasped in front of her. Shy. A bit lazy, judging by her bad posture.

"Don't even think about it, Sherlock. Don't even try to deduce her. It's rude." John stopped him from voicing his opinions and just led the girl by the arm up to his room. "Come, we'll get you settled in."

"She's too young for you, John." The shouted remark followed them up the stairs making the doctor roll his eyes. Candy just giggled quietly at her friend's annoyance.

Candy wandered back down into the living room after her friend left to get groceries, complaining that his flatmate wouldn't stop using all their food for experiments. She found said flatmate face down on the sofa looking for all the world like a corps. The only thing that gave him away was the slight expanding and contracting of his rib-cage as he breathed.

She took in the horrid state of the room. Paper and books strewn everywhere. A smiley face spray painted on the wall above the couch with bullet holes decorating it. A skull setting next to a large knife stuck in the mantle of the fireplace, ruining the beautiful wood.

A heavy sigh came from the body sprawled across the leather couch and she got an idea. John was always complaining to her in his emails about how annoying and childish his flatmate was. _Like an overgrown five year old_.

She smiled mischievously as she leaned over and whispered in Sherlock's ear, "You are now in manual breathing mode."

Taking a silent step back, she waited and watched as the man's breaths became slightly forced and uneven. After a second he sat bolt upright and glared at her. "That's not funny." He told her indignantly as she gave him a sweet, innocent smile. He just growled at her and stormed across the room, into the kitchen to check on one of his experiments, letting her steal his spot on the sofa after pulling her friend's laptop out from under a pile of papers.

"**Hurry back -SH**"

John sighed as he waited in line at the check out.

"**Why? -JW**"

"**You are now in manual blinking mode -CW**"

He tried to stifle his laugh, making it come out in a weird snort and earning him a few strange looks. The cashier most notably, kept glancing at him before finally asking, "Are you alright, Sir? Something in your eye?"

Back at 221B Sherlock was chasing his flatmate's friend around, trying to retrieve his phone from her. She was quick to dodge and slip away from his long arms at the last second, frustrating the detective to no end with her constant, childish giggling. The phone beeped in her hand, alerting them of a text.

"Give that here!" She dodged the lanky man again and perched herself on the back of a chair in a very cat-like manner, somehow not tipping the piece of furniture over.

"**Having fun torturing Sherlock? -JW**"

"**Don't know what you're talking about -CW**"

She hopped off the chair and danced around the furniture away from Sherlock as he tried to snatch his phone back again, never taking her eyes from the screen as she texted her response, a big smile on her face.

When John returned, grocery bags in hand, he found his flatmate sitting in the middle of the floor pouting as Candy continued playing with his phone, lounging across the couch. He smiled at the scene, earning a glare from his flatmate.

Candy got up and followed her friend into the kitchen to help put the food away, leaving the phone balancing atop Sherlocks head as she passed by. He caught it as it tumbled off the moment he moved and checked to make sure she hadn't messed with anything. She'd added a number to his contacts list but that seemed to be it.

He threw a murderous glare toward the kitchen as laughter floated out along with the sounds of things being moved around to make room for the food. Damn annoying girl. He couldn't quite put a finger on it but there was something off about her. Something about the way she moved. So quiet and graceful while her demeanor and posture suggested clumsy and careless. He hadn't heard her come down the creaky steps while he was laying on the couch. Her eyes, too, seemed off. Innocent yet not. Hiding something behind a well placed facade.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock jumped at the sudden, high pitched beeping then promptly gave his phone a strange look when it suddenly announced,* "This is the cell phone detection system. It's your Mommy calling. Try to look cool." Followed by a few more beeps.

He glanced at the number as it began to repeat itself, unable to keep the smile from his face as he saw Lestrades number. He just stuffed the device back in his pocket and continued looking at something under the microscope.

"Help! I'm stuck in your pocket!" He gave another weird look toward the phone before pulling it out to see a text message from Lestrade.

**"Murder at the docks. You may be intrested -GL"**

"Boreing." He mumbled to himself as he went back to his previous activities.

A while later, John arrived with his new friend. He'd been showing her around the city and Barts Hospital was one of the last places on the day's list. The detective rolled his eyes as he heard chatter outside the door where they'd run into Molly.

"So how did you two meet?" Molly asked kindly as she let them into the lab. "We served together in Afghanistan. She actually saved my arse quite a few times." John replied before the small redhead playfully punched his arm. "Once. I saved your ass once."

"Alright." the doctor conceded, "You saved my arse multiple times durring one attack."

Sherlock pretended he didn't notice them even come in, although in reality he was quite intrigued. How could such a small, frail looking girl have been in the military? She must have been older than she looked to have even been enlisted.

"Help I'm stuck in your pocket!" Molly gave Sherlock an odd look while John tried not to smile. Candy did so love to mess with people's ringtones.

"Was that your phone, Sherlock?" Molly asked a bit skittish. He just hummed, "It's been doing that for quite some time. Getting rather anoying."

John rolled his eyes before giving his friend a murderous look as his phone went off next, **"Paging Dr. Faggot... Dr. Faggot!"

Molly snorted as she tried not to laugh and Sherlock actually cracked a smile.. Candy simply didn't care and outright laughed at her friend's expression.

**"Get Sherlock to answer his bloody phone. We need help with a case. He WILL find it interesting -GL"**

"Lestrade's texting me now.. Will you check your bloody messages?" Of course he wouldn't receive any kind of responce. John did the next best thing and fished the phone from his flatmate's pocket and checked them for him.

**"Murder at the docks. You may be intrested -GL"**

**"Verry messy -GL"**

**"Looks like an animal attack but not -GL"**

**"Please? -GL"**

**"I know you're there Sherlock! Answer your bloody phone! -GL"**

**"We really need your help, Sherlock -GL"**

**"Sherlock -GL"**

**"We found another. Same wounds -GL"**

**"How many deaths does it take to get your arse out here? -GL"**

**"One witness describing a 'large black monster' with 'knives for hands' -GL"**

**"We need your talents on this one -GL"**

**"I'm not going to beg -GL"**

**"Sherlock please? -GL"**

John sighed, "Apparently Lestrade needs 'your talents' to track down a 'giant black monster with knives for hands'. It's killed two people and made one hell of a mess. He's begging, Sherlock."

The detective scoffed, "Monster with knives for hands.. Oh, hell. Why not?" He snatched his phone back from the blogger as he gracefully swept from the room.

John grimmaced at the scene. A man's body lay sprawled across the warehouse floor, abdomen ripped open. A look of pure horror was locked on what remained of the man's face.

Sherlock walked around the body a few times, careful not to step in the massive pool of blood. "John!" The doctor sighed, redying himself for a closer look before making his way to the detective's side. "Tell me what you see."

Another sigh as he looked the body over, trying to notice anything more than the obvious. "Um.. Well.." He couldn't get past the wounds and blood that completely covered the body.

Sherlock rolled his eyes in annoyance when it took his friend too long to come up with anything. "Middle aged man in the mining industry. Salt mines judging by the deposites beneath his fingernails. Happily married twenty plus years. Gave up drinking and smoking quite some time ago.. I don't see why anyone would go through the trouble of hacking at him so much. This is beyond the damage and effort of a rage induced killing. Obviously more damage than an animal would have caused. He wanted it to look this way.. Why? Why so overly dramatic?"

"A copy cat." Candy spoke up from beside Lestrade, earning her some strange looks.

"Who are you supposed to be? And exactly who or what are they trying to copy? I've never seen or heard of anything like this before." Anderson piped up, receving a glare from both Candy and Sherlock.

"Candice Welsh, Chief Warrant Officer of the 36th Infantry Division." She stood up a bit straighter and gained an air of importance as she introduced herself. "He was copying Alex Mercer AKA Zeuse in the Blacklight Virus project. The main reason I was passing through the area. I was tasked with finding him after he escaped the USA in 2008. The main difference between his killings and this," She nodded toward the body, "Is Mercer doesn't leave a body at all. He consumes it."

"Consumes it'.. You honestly expect us to believe that?" Anderson scoffed at her.

"Shut it, pencil dick." She snapped before pulling out her phone and opening a video. Sherlock and John hurried over to see while Lestrade leaned over her shoulder for a better look.

The video showed a large black creature being attacked by soldiers. It easily knocked them away with a sweep of it's arm that changed into a large, sword-like blade. It grabbed a man that tried to sneak up behind him and seemingly absorbed him just before the video cut out.

"And they expect **you** to stop that bloody thing?!" John looked like he was ready to pass out from fright when she explained, "He was my friend. They and I believe he may be more receptive toward a friendly face." She turned to Lestrade, "May I speak to the witness? I'd like to know where he saw Alex and when."

* * *

*"This is the cell phone detection system. It's your Mommy calling. Try to look cool."

ringophone Mommy %20 Calling %20 Cell %20 Phone %20 Detection-ringtones. html

**"Paging Dr. Faggot... Dr. Faggot!"

cellsea ringtone/ detail/RT4d7d38a2c6e18. htm


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Forgot the "Help! I'm stuck in your pocket!" text alert last chapter.. T_T I can't find it anywhere!

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A young man in his early twenties sat in interrogation room at Scotland Yard. He looked nervous. Scared. "Go easy on him. He just witnessed his father's gruesome murder." Agent Donovan commented as she let Candy in. A two-way mirror allowed Sherlock, John and Lestrade to observe the questioning.

"What happened?"

"I've already gave my report.." He nodded to the file she picked up off the table in front of him.

She flipped through a couple pages, "Where did you see this 'monster'?"

"At the docks. I followed it into the warehouse and saw it kill my father."

"Did you know your father was there?"

"No, I didn't."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Who in their right mind would follow a 'monster' into an seemingly empty building with no form of protection?"

"I-I had a knife on me." He stammered.

"A knife?" She feigned amazement, "That's great protection from an '8 foot monster with knives for hands', isn't it?" She quoted the description from his statement.

The red-head didn't give him time to reply. Instead she pulled up a still from the video she'd shown the detectives earlier and held it so the boy could see. "Is this the 'monster' you saw?"

His eyes widened as he nodded, then paled when she pressed play and showed him how the monster really kills.

"He never leaves bodies. Where did you see him?"

"At the warehouse! He obviously does, he left two!"

"I don't remember anyone telling you about the second.. How about you tell me where you really saw him and I'll forget you slipped and said that?" She gave him a sweet smile as he started to sweat.

"Down by the train yard.. I-I was taggin' a wall and saw somethin' move.. Went to check it out and saw that thing slice a man up in one swing of his claws.. I ran before he could see me."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "So.. You get into a fight with your girlfriend's father over some drugs he found in his daughters possession. He accused you of giving them to her and you lashed out, killing him. After a moment of panic over what you'd done, you remembered the 'monster' and decided to try and frame it for the killing. Your father was looking for you and came upon the scene so you took off after him. Chased him into the warehouse on the docks and killed him, staging that to look like the 'monsters' kill as well."

"NO!" He shouted, breathing hard from fear, "My boyfriend! His father didn't approve and was sending him away to a boarding school in France! I didn't- I didn't mean to! I-I-I..!"

"Interesting." She simply cut him off as he began choking on his tears and gave a nod toward Lestrade before exiting the room.

Sherlock intercepted her in the hall, "Girlfriend? It's obvious he's gay. How could you be so blind?"

She gave him a crooked smile, "Obviously. And he's proud of it. Also very against drugs."

"So you throw out false information to upset him into telling the truth? Brilliant." Sherlock gave John a dirty look. Apparently he was only allowed to praise Sherlock's genius.

A thought struck John as they entered the cab to return to the flat, "How did you know the other victim was his boyfriend's father?"

"I heard of someone working at the train yard a few nights ago that I knew Alex would be targeting. Saw the boys there making out while I waited. Thought they'd both gone by time Alex got there.. Guess I was wrong.. While going through the reports, I noticed the names of the witness and the second victim's son. The boy's names were the same as the ones from the train yard when I'd overheard them saying their goodbyes. Looked him up and.." She made a 'tsk' noise and shrugged as the rest was quite obvious.

John's mouth hung open for a moment before he shook his head, glancing between his friends. "I will never understand how your minds work. How you can both remember such small, **seemingly** insignificant details. I- It's hard to believe either of you are human sometimes." His comment earned him a smile from the red-head beside him and a snort from the distracted detective staring out the cab window.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Going on vacation. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I get back (around 16-17th)

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"How could he? How could he compare **me** and **my** intellect to that- that girl!" Sherlock paced the living room angrily, venting to his skull that now perched atop the back of his chair, watching him. "An **American**! Likely from some small ranch in Texas, judging by her accent. It was **luck**. Pure **luck** that she was following that creature and knew his M.O. enough to tell the difference! I would have figured it out, eventually!" He stopped pacing and turned sharply to glare at the skull, "How dare you? I am **not** jealous."

He resumed his pacing, "It was a theory. **I had a theory**! One of many theories, mind you! It was just a matter of time before I sorted it all out. I could have done it! .. Oh! Now you're doubting me too?"

"What's his name?" The detective jumped and quickly spun around to see John's friend leaning against the door frame. How had she snuck up on him again?

She nodded toward the skull, "What's his name?"

"Billy." He's fidgeting. Why was he fidgeting? He always vented to Billy and never cared if anyone saw or heard.

She hummed thoughtfully before making her way across the room and picking up the skull. "You're really close friends. I can tell. He's been well taken care of." She rolled the skull around in her hands for a moment, taking in every detail in the surface of the old bones. "Someone's used some harsh chemicals on him, though. Likely Mrs. Hudson trying to help out and clean him a bit."

He watched her small hands carefully work over the skull. Small, daft movements. Tracing every hairline fracture, making note of every nick and scratch. She knew what she was looking at. Knew what she was looking for.

"Likely an Irish farmer from the mid 1700's. Early to mid thirties when he passed away." Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper. Her voice picked up just a bit as she set the skull back on the chair, "Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Billy.. Oh.. Really? Well, isn't that interesting?"

Sherlock gave her a strange look as she 'listened' to what Billy 'said'.

"He says you need to chill out and get laid." She quickly raised a hand to stop Sherlock from yelling, "Joking! Joking! He said you're really not as bad as most people think you are. That you're the kind of person that needs to be given quite a bit of time and an open mind before anyone can pass any kind of accurate judgement on you or your personality."

He stumbled for a moment, trying to think of something witty to say. "The skull told you that? He's dead. He can't talk."

"No, he can't. But the way you treat him can. You talk to him like one would another living person. You take care of him as though he's all you have. The only one you can trust. The only thing that matters." She had to look up quite a ways to look the detective in the eye, and when she did, he felt as though she were looking straight through him.

"I've read John's blog and he's always talking about you in his emails.. He's wrong. You're not a sociopath. You have feelings and a conscience, you just push them away. Force yourself not to feel. Emotions **can** cloud one's judgment and they can be scary at times."

He scoffed at her, "I'm not afraid. What do I have to fear?"

She shook her head, smiling warmly as she made her way out and toward the stairs, "Sometimes we don't put up walls to keep people out. They're to see who cares enough to tear them down."

He watched in shock and confusion as she made her way down the stairs, glancing to the skull as he heard the front door close. Off to try and track down Mercer again.

As he lay down to try and get some rest, all Sherlock could think about was a confusing red-headed American and he fell asleep with her words echoing through his mind.

_**"Some people put walls up, not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to knock them down." - Socrates**_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: received my first full-on flame while on vacation.. Hm.. Didn't hurt as bad as I thought it would.. *watches Alex roast marshmallows with John over the flame*

Soon, you shall see, Candy is far from a Mary Sue.. Just give her time to show her true colors.

Also, sorry for the long wait. Life likes to get in the way of things unfortunately.

Aaaaaaaaand I'm too irritated with Minecraft not letting me connect to the server I just paid for to bother with spelling or grammar errors.

Waiting on a reply from tech support..

* * *

The flat was unusually quiet as John made his way down for his morning tea. No Sherlock in sight. Maybe he was actually sleeping for once? Candy, too was gone. Perhaps out working on finding Alex?

The quiet was a welcome change. Unfortunately he knew, like with children, quiet was suspicious when dealing with Sherlock.. And Candy to an extent.. Yes, she had her quiet moments, but usually she could be found causing some kind of trouble. Setting up a prank or annoying someone for 'shits and grins', as she liked to say.

He chanced a peak into Sherlock's room while he waited for the water to boil. Amazing! He actually was asleep.. Or was he dead? Maybe he found something and, out of bordome, overdosed? Nope, there was movement. Alright, back to tea!

He'd just sat down with his tea, ready to read the newspaper when he heard familiar laughter echoing up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson and Candy came in carrying trays of sweets, one balanced precariously atop the younger ladies' head, making the older quite nervious.

"Morning!" The red-head chirped happily.

"Morning.. Here, let me get that for you." John procured the tray from atop her head before it could fall.. Well, it was more of a large plate with a domed cover over it.

"Thankee, thankees." Her childish reply made both him and Mrs. Hudson laugh as they placed the trays down on the kitchen table.

"What is all the noise for?" The detective groggily stumbled from his room wearing nothing but a sheet.

"Morning, sleepy head! We made sweets." Candy told him happily, using overly dramatic movements. Much like a child.

Actually, now he woke up a bit, he noticed she wasn't only acting and moving like a child, but was dressed like one also. A pale pink, empire cut dress that ended just above her knees with short, puffy sleeves. Her hair was down, reaching nearly mid-thigh with a simple ribbon tied in it in place of a hair band. Knee-high socks and ballet-flats completed the look.

She just smiled sweetly at the odd look he gave her before turning back to the 'sweets' and pileing a few on a plate.

John moaned as he took a bite of a jam-filled pastry. "I knew you could cook, Candy, but **this** is amazng."

"Oh! I know! Isn't it lovely? I couldn't help it and had to sneak a few bites myself while helping her cook." Mrs. Hudson cooed as Candy handed the plate of sweets to Sherlock with a warm smile.

"Not hungry." He said as he sat the plate down on the counter and headed into the living room, stealing John's computer to check his email.

"Sherlock!" John gaped at him, "Apologise! The ladies put a lot of time and effort into making these. The least you could do is try one."

"Oh, please." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "They're obviously not home-made. Look at the quality. They're from a high-end bakery at most."

Mrs. Hudson just shook her head and Candy shrugged it off. Play time was over. Time to get back to work.

Sherlock sighed in bordome. John had gone off to work, Mrs. Hudson had gone to visit some friends for the day and Candy was off doing God knows what.

He rubbed at his hair a bit more with the towel before tossing it aside. He'd already done everything that needed to be done. He slept, checked his email and website, played the violin for a bit, complained to Billy, trolled Lestrade until he stoped responding, took a shower.. There was nothing left to do!

Oh! That **is** good! He looked down to find he'd absently picked up one of the sweets and nibbled on it. Human habit. When presented with nothing to do, people have the tendancy to eat. Having things laying around and within reach only simplifies the process to the point it becomes an unconcious act.

He took another bite of the biscut or 'cookie' as the Americans called them. Gingerbread with a hint of pepermint. Leftovers from the Christmas season? No. They were too fresh. But wasn't that the only time anyone sold such things?

He looked over the asortment spread across the kitchen table. Miniature pumpkin cheasecake, chocolate cheasecake, and pecan pies; shortbread, gingerbread-pepermit swerled, chocolate chip, and oatmeal-raisen biscuts; chocolate covered strawberries and cherries, jam-filled pastries.. He lifted the domed cover to find a chocolate cake with chocolate icing.

His favorites. All of them.. Well, minus the grape jam pastries. John liked those. Evident by the fact there was only one left.

Damn that girl.

**"They are not from a bakery -SH"**

John rolled his eyes at his phone before texting back. Might as well humor the man. He was on his way home anyway.

**"How did you figure it out? -JW"**

**"One would have to go to five different bakeries to get this variety -SH"**

**"Several of these are only sold in specific bakeries several hours away from eachother -SH"**

**"A few are only sold on specific holidays -SH"**

**"The rubbish bins are also quite telling -SH"**

John returned to the flat to find most of the sweets gone and his flatmate bouncing off the walls.

**"Thank you. Now Sherlock is on a sugar-high -JW"**

He sent the text to Candy with no reply. He shrugged it off, figuring she was busy. His eyes widend in horror, "No! No nononoNO! We are not playing that again."

Sherlock whined as the board game was yanked from his hands and thrown back into it's box. Then something cought his eye out the window and the hyperactive detective bounced over for a better look.

John had just put the box away when a scream from outside made him jump. It was promptly followed by the sounds of more screams and screaching tires. He rushed down the stairs behind Sherlock, out into the street. Not the brightest move, he noted as a car nearly ran them over.

'Nearly' thanks to a black blur careening down the road, knocked the car over on it's side, causing the Right-side tires to barely miss John's head as it flipped and skidded down the road.

Sirens could barely be heard over the chaos and when the doctor spared a glance toward the car, he saw the cause of all the comotion and froze. He looked different from the video Candy had shown them. He had retained a mostly human form in the video, looking as though he were simply wareing armor. But this..

He was nearly twice John's height with oddly animal-like legs and tail. Large, metallic claws tipped his feet while his fingers looked to be made of long blades. The skin was smooth and shiny, similar to a slick tree frog. Antena-like apendages adorned his faceless head and fell backward, almost like hair that reached his mid back.

It was looking at him. (Or so he thought. Hard to tell when it had no eyes.) Seemingly sizing him up before it looked in the direction of the sirens, now much closer, and took off in the opposite direction.

The next thing John knew was darkness and muffled voices.


End file.
